After the War
by theyaremagicallydelicious
Summary: How do you live a normal life after you've spent the better part of your adolescence fighting a war? Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Ginny try to answer that very question. R/H H/G
1. Prologue

Prologue

Ron awoke suddenly and felt a surge of adrenaline in his body. He grabbed his wand and jumped off the bed he had been laying on. Suddenly, the events of earlier that day came flooding back to him.

Voldemort was gone.

The war was over.

And he was posed like a homicidal maniac in the middle of the Gryffindor seventh years' dormitories. He put down his wand and let his body relax, surveying the room. He was alone. Ron sat back down on his four-poster bed and gave a heavy sigh. There was too much to think about – Voldemort and so many Death Eaters gone – but along with them Professor Lupin, Tonks, and Fred. Fred. His brother. Gone forever. And Harry – Harry had told him and Hermione everything that had happened. Could he ever come back from all of that?

Ron shook his head, trying to gain clarity. If he sat here by himself thinking of the tragedy and magnitude of it all, he would suffocate in it. No, he needed air.

He walked down the familiar steps that led to the Gryffindor common room. He had been walking towards the portrait when Hermione burst through it.

"I was just coming to wake you up," she said briskly. "Dinner's just about to be served in the Great Hall. I thought you might be hungry."

"I am." Ron said. He looked around at the common room. "Weird to be back here, isn't it? Wasn't sure if we would ever see this place again. All that time on the run – sometimes it seemed like it would never end – or if it did – we would –"

He let the thought finish itself.

Hermione came towards him slowly and hugged him. He wrapped his arms around her and breathed in the scent of her hair.

"I know what you mean," she mumbled into his shoulder. "But it's over. It really is."

"How's Harry?" Ron asked.

"He's okay. A little quiet. He was helping some of the Aurors and teachers clear up the Great Hall earlier. He went off for a walk with Ginny, which is good for him. He should be back for dinner."

Ron nodded as they separated. "Good. He hasn't seen Ginny in a long time. Dinner then?"

They walked through the portrait hole. Ron grabbed her hand as they walked to the Great Hall; Hermione smiled at him.

When they arrived at the Great Hall, Ron was surprised to see that the room looked completely normal. The house tables were lined up. There were many people eating in the Hall – students who had stayed to fight, parents, teachers, and Aurors. There were men and women rushing in and out of the Hall, as they worked to clean up other parts of the castle. Even Kingsley Shacklebolt, the new Minister of Magic, was there.

As he and Hermione joined the Weasleys and several others at the Gryffindor table, he remarked, "Wow. How'd they clean the whole place up so fast?"

"It's called magic, Ron," George said. "Maybe someday you will learn some."

Ron grabbed a roll from the table and threw it at his brother. George flicked his wand and the roll came racing back towards Ron who had to duck to dodge it.

"See." George said. "Magic."

"That's enough boys," His mother called from a little ways down the table. "Just because we're not at home doesn't mean I won't make a scene."

"First day back at Hogwarts and you're already getting into trouble," came a voice from behind him.

Ron turned around. Ginny and Harry had arrived. "It's mum Ginny; it doesn't count. Alright mate?" He asked Harry.

Harry nodded. "I'm starving," he said.

They all dug into shepherd's pie. The table went quiet except for the sounds of people eating. Even though he had been sleeping for almost half a day, Ron still felt tired, maybe weary. And all of their interaction felt forced. Even when George had teased him, Ron had felt Fred's absence. The twins should have been torturing him together. Would it always be like this?

"Harry, dear," his mum said. "I was thinking you could stay at the Burrow with us. We're going home tonight. Just until you decide what you want to do or you get a flat of your own. You really shouldn't be alone right now, dear. You can have Percy's old room."

"Thanks Mrs. Weasley," Harry said appreciatively. "That sounds great."

In the morning, after the battle was over, and Harry had told them everything, they had all decided just to sleep at Hogwarts, being too tired to do much else. The students who remained were being sent home that day. Exams were canceled. The castle still had to be repaired and the protective enchantments and spells replaced around its border. The hope was that Hogwarts would be ready for a new class on September 1st, but at the current moment, it was inoperable.

But now they would go home. And do what?

"It's going to be strange to try to be normal," Hermione said quietly.

Ginny nodded. "But it will be good." She put her hand on Harry's and gave it a slight squeeze.

They finished their dinner making light conversation. Finally Ron's father thought it was about time they went home.

"We'll apparate," He said brightly.

"Hey! I thought you couldn't apparate out of Hogwarts?" Ron said. "Have you been lying to me all these years?" He asked, turning towards Hermione.

She rolled her eyes. "I've not been lying to you, Ron. It's in _Hogwarts, A History_." Ron grinned at this familiar line and Hermione looked torn between exasperation and amusement. "I would assume that we can apparate out of the castle now because many of Hogwarts' protective enchantments have been torn down."

"Right you are Hermione," Mr. Weasley said.

Ron almost expected him to say "Ten points to Gryffindor", so strongly he was reminded of attending classes at Hogwarts by their last exchange.

They said their goodbyes to Bill and Fleur who were going to Shell Cottage and Percy who was going back to his flat. George decided to come with them to the Burrow to stay for a bit. No one said anything, but they all knew that he didn't want to face the apartment that he and Fred had shared quite yet.

That night, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Harry, and George sat in the garden at the Burrow. The rest of the occupants of the house had gone to bed.

"What are you going to do now, Harry?" Ron asked him.

Harry lay on his back with his hands behind his head. Ginny was lying next to him. He looked surprisingly content.

"Don't know," he said. "Just relax for a little bit. Find a place to live."

"I'd move with you. But I have to get some money first," Ron said.

"You know Ron," George began. "I'm going to need some help at the joke shop now—" He stopped talking, took a deep breath, and then continued. "If you wanted to make some money. I probably won't be opening it for a couple weeks. Let everything get back to a normal a little bit. Plus we have to attend all the funerals."

"That sounds good," Ron said quietly. "Yeah, I'll work with you."

"Are any of you lot going back to Hogwarts?" Ginny asked.

"I am," Hermione said quickly. "I have to get my NEWTs."

"Do you know what you want to do then?" Ron said.

"I want to work in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures," she told them.

"Take SPEW to a national level, eh?" Ron teased.

Hermione hit him playfully. "Are you two going back to Hogwarts?" She asked Ron and Harry.

"I'm not," Harry said. "I just – can't. I think I've learned enough. It's strange. I never thought I'd live long enough to have to make a decision about what I was going to do when I was older," He said darkly. But he was smiling.

"I'm not going back either," Ron said suddenly. "Do we really need NEWTs after everything we've been through?"

"Maybe you don't Ron, but-"

Ron interrupted what was sure to be a classic Hermione tirade about the importance of school work. "Hey, we all know you love school. I'm sure you'd go for eight years if McGonagall let you."

The others laughed and even Hermione smiled somewhat sheepishly.

"I'm going to get to bed," Hermione said, standing up and stretching. "I'm exhausted."

"I'll go with you," Ron said.

They said good night to the others and made their way to the Burrow.

"It's going to be strange to go to Hogwarts without you two," Hermione told him.

"Yeah," Ron said. "But we'll visit. Plus we have the whole summer to spend together."

They arrived at Ginny's room, where Hermione was sleeping.

"Well, good night," she said softly.

Ron stepped closer to her and kissed her. This was something good that had come from all of the bad. This was something right and meaningful. This was something he could hold on to, that maybe would get him through all the rest of it. They continued kissing and Ron ran his hands through Hermione's hair. Finally, they separated. Hermione looked up at him. She was smiling and her eyes were shining.

"Not as theatrical as the last time, but I'll take it," He said.

Hermione smacked him and looked indignant. "Ron!"

"What? I'm just saying that I think every time we kiss you should come running into my arms."

"Good night, Ron." She said, smiling.

"Good night, Hermione."

She squeezed his hand and then went into Ginny's room and shut the door.


	2. Ron's Finest Hour

Chapter One: Ron's Finest Hour

_ONE MONTH LATER_

"GINNY! OY! GINNY!"

"IN A MINUTE!" She called down the steps.

"WE WANT TO PLAY QUIDDITCH!"

"I SAID I'LL BE THERE IN A MINUTE!" She cursed her stupid brother under her breath, tugged on her shoes, and raced downstairs. Ron was waiting for her.

"What took you so long? We need another player to make even teams," He said seriously.

"I was getting dressed, you idiot."

"Well, come on then."

They went outside where Harry, Hermione, Bill, and Percy were waiting for them. They picked teams and Ginny was soon up in the air with the wind on her face, playing Quidditch with her brothers Hermione and Harry. It still surprised her sometimes how happy she felt. She had dreams sometimes, dreams that she was back at Hogwarts without Ron and Hermione, and most of all without Harry. She always felt so helpless in the dreams, not knowing what was happening to him, not even knowing, really, if he was still alive.

But it was over and they had come out of it relatively unscathed.

Relatively.

Fred's funeral had been a week after the battle. And they had all cried. But maybe the worst was George, who had looked so young and lost.

Ginny snapped out of her reverie in time to hear Ron taunting Hermione about her flying abilities.

"Top of her class in everything, Witches and Wizards!" He shouted. "But she can barely stay on a broomstick!"

"-barely stay on! Now really! Besides I wasn't top of our class in everything – Harry was in defense—"

"Well, my mistake," Ron said. "Top of her class in _almost_ everything…but she can barely stay on a broomstick!"

Hermione, on an old Cleansweep, shot towards Ron. He easily dodged her and laughed. Harry was watching the two with an amused expression on his face.

"Lunch!" They heard a call from below. Mrs. Weasley was signaling them inside. They landed and dismounted their brooms, still good-naturedly ribbing each other as they made their way inside.

The table was loaded with sandwiches. Ginny sat down with the rest of the Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione.

"Are you going to see your parents today, dear?" Her mother asked Hermione.

"I'm going this weekend," she told her. "Thanks again for letting me stay here."

"You're always welcome, dear."

"So did you tell your parents everything that happened?" Bill asked curiously. "Ron told me you had memory charmed them."

"I had to go find them," Hermione explained. "Once I removed the memory charm, it was fine. I did tell them everything, and I mean _everything_. They weren't too pleased that I took matters into my own hands, but they understand I was protecting them and they're just glad I'm safe."

Suddenly, an official-looking owl came through the window. Mrs. Weasley grabbed the three letters the owl was carrying and then offered it some owl treats. The owl turned its beak up at them in a noble sort of way.

"Must be special delivery," Mrs. Weasley muttered as she handed Harry, Ron, and Hermione letters. "The regular post already came. Which, by the way Harry, you might want to start going through some of that mail. I know you'll just ignore the newspaper requests, but you do have a lot of people that want to thank you for what you did, dear."

They ripped into their letters as everyone else watched curiously.

"NO WAY!" Ron shouted with a look of excitement on his face. Harry and Hermione looked up, smiling.

"What is it?" Percy asked.

"They want to put us on Chocolate Frog Cards!" Ron shouted, grinning.

Bill, Percy, and Ginny laughed. Their mum seemed to be trying to hide her amusement.

"The letters have what they want to put on our cards and ask us to sign off on them," Hermione said.

"Well go on—" Ginny said. "Read them."

Hermione began, "Hermione Granger. Integral in helping to defeat The Dark Lord in 1998. She, along with Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, located and destroyed The Dark Lord's horcruxes, helping to bring about the destruction of the most evil dark wizard the world has ever seen."

"Mine's the same," Ron said. "Ronald Weasley. Integral in helping to defeat The Dark Lord in 1998. He, along with Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, located and destroyed The Dark Lord's horcruxes, helping to bring about the destruction of the most evil dark wizard the world has ever seen."

"What about you, Harry?" Ginny asked.

"Harry Potter. Also known as The-Boy-Who-Lived and The Chosen One. Is the only known person to have survived the _Avada Kedavra_ curse. Faced The Dark Lord and lived several times, finally working with Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger to locate and destroy his horcruxes. He cast the spell that eliminated The Dark Lord forever."

"Are you all going to give permission then?" Bill asked.

"Of course!" Ron said, already grabbing a quill to sign the piece of parchment. "This is my finest hour," He finished solemnly.

He passed the quill to Harry who signed his parchment as well and then onto Hermione.

"It is kind of neat, isn't it?" Hermione said.

"Neat?!" Ron asked incredulously. "Hermione, this is the dream. Now kids on the Hogwarts Express will be trading us."

"Yeah, how many of you do you think someone would have to trade in order to get Harry?" Ginny asked playfully.

"Please," Ron said. "Harry may be the more famous one, but I'm much better looking."

"If you're done eating and telling us about your fantastic looks, I want to go look at a some flats before dinner," Harry told him.

"Are we still all meeting up at The Leaky Cauldron later?" Ginny asked.

"Yeah," Harry said. "We'll see you two there," he indicated Ginny and Hermione. "Come on, Ron."

"Alright, alright," Ron said, stuffing the last half of a sandwich in his mouth. "See you later," he said to Hermione, spraying crumbs everywhere. She removed a crumb from her robes and rolled her eyes as Ron and Harry headed out the door.

~*~*~

"This is it. This is the place," Ron said.

"How many times are you going to say that?" Harry asked.

"Until you say we're going to take it."

"Alright, we're going to take it."

The truth was, the place was perfect – exactly what they were looking for. Though they had only looked at flats before, they had seen the advertisement for a small house and decided to check it out. It was the eighth place they had visited that day. There were two bedrooms, a roomy living room, an adequate kitchen for two blokes living on their own, and a sizeable basement. The house also had a sort of charm, Harry thought. It was clearly an older home and showed its age in certain characteristic ways – a banister that was a little loose, two steps that creaked, and a floorboard that lifted up in one of the bedrooms that reminded Harry strongly of Privet Drive. It was located in a small town known as Locke's Landing, which the realtor told him was home to Wizards and Muggles alike.

"Do you want to go check out the town?" Ron asked.

"Sure." He told the realtor that they would be taking the place. She left to draw up the papers, ensuring them that they could move in about two weeks' time.

He and Ron made their way towards the shops; Ron was excitedly talking about he was going to decorate the new place.

"—we can do the basement in all orange. Strictly Chudley Cannons. What do you think? It would be—"

"I think it would clash horribly with your hair," Harry said with a grin. Ron shoved him and a scuffle ensued. Eventually, they called a truce as they reached the shops. They passed a variety of stores and restaurants. Some were Muggle, but the majority were Wizarding shops. Harry figured they must have some sort of spell on them to ensure that Muggles couldn't see them.

"Oh look! A pub!" Ron said excitedly. The place looked old, but well-cared for. A sign above the pub read The Lucky Griffin. "Fancy a drink?" Ron asked. Harry followed him into The Lucky Griffin.

They sat down on stools and a cute Witch who was tending bar approached them. "Can I get two pints of mead and two shots of firewhisky?" Ron asked. He set a few silver Sickles on the bar as the Witch served them their drinks.

Ron raised his shot glass. "To being a Chocolate Frog Card!" Harry grinned and clinked his glass against Ron's. The firewhisky gave him a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Two hours later, the shot glasses had been re-filled several times and Harry couldn't stop laughing as Ron told him a story about the joke shop.

"—so George tells me to eat this candy. Says I need to try it out. While I'm not stupid. Of course I wasn't going to eat it. Probably turn into a Grippohyff—"

Harry let out a bark of laughter. "A Grippohyff—A—Grippo—" He couldn't finish the thought and continued laughing. Ron joined him and it took a few minutes for the boys to catch their breath.

"So I told George 'no, I'm not eating that' and it turns out that he put a spell on the candy that was activated by a certain word…and of course the word was no—"

"What happened?" Harry asked.

"—it turned into a boxing glove, punched me right in the stomach. I fell right on my arse—"

Harry roared with laughter.

"—yeah, George thought it was pretty funny too. Hey, what time is it?"

"It's almost six," Harry told him, glancing at his watch. "We better go to The Leaky Cauldron now."

"How cool is it that we didn't have to take our apparition exams?" Ron said. "Just gave us our licenses."

Harry stood up raised his wand in the air. "That's because I'm Harry Potter – The-Chosen-Boy-Who-Lives!" He fell to his knees laughing.

"Alright, alright. We have to pull it together," Ron said seriously.

Harry put on his most solemn face. He and Ron apparated at almost exactly the same moment and appeared outside The Leaky Cauldron.

"See!" Harry said triumphantly. "That was easy." He walked confidently towards the entrance, tripped over his own feet, and had to grab the door to keep himself from falling.

"Smooth," Ron said as he walked past Harry. The girls had not yet arrived. Harry and Ron grabbed a table and two more pints of mead for good measure.

"I'm starving," Ron said. He examined the menu while Harry used his fork to send tap-dancing peanuts flying across the room.

"Harry, what are you doing?" He looked up and saw Ginny standing there, Hermione beside her.

"You look beautiful," he said to Ginny.

"I'm wearing the same robes I was wearing earlier," she said skeptically.

"So? You still look great." He stood up and put his arm around her waist. She gave him a confused expression. Sure, it was unlike him to show so much public affection, but why not? She was beautiful and they were together and everything was good. He leaned in to kiss her.

"Are you drunk?" She asked, looking slightly annoyed, but also smiling.

He paused. "Maybe."

"Ron!" Hermione shouted. "Where did you two go?"

He looked guilty as he explained, "Well, we found a place; didn't we Harry? And we went to this pub and had a few drinks. Just celebrating you know – Chocolate Frog Cards, finding a house, no one trying to do Harry in for a month—"

"Okay," Hermione said, softening at once. "But you two need to sober up some." She ordered pumpkin juice for all of them and an order of chips to start out with. "You know, Harry, Kingsley Shacklebolt made an announcement today that anyone who participated in the final battle is welcome to start auror training in the fall, with or without NEWTs."

"Yeah?" Harry said. It was true that he had had an ambition to become an auror since he was fourteen. Ironically, it was Bartemius Crouch Jr. disguised as Professor Moody who had first put the idea in his head. And during his career consultation in fifth year, Professor McGonagall had defended his chosen career path.

"Do you think you'll have a go?" Ginny asked. "Think you can handle it?" She teased.

The pumpkin juice and chips seemed to be clearing his head a bit. "Yeah, I reckon I have a bit of experience in the area."

"What about you, Ron?" Hermione asked suddenly.

"Me?" He looked taken aback by the suggestion.

"Well isn't that what you always wanted to do?" Hermione said. "You took all the same subjects as Harry at Hogwarts – the ones necessary to be an auror. And it's not like you haven't faced more of the Dark Arts than half the aurors combined."

Ron's face turned a bright pink. "Yeah, I think I will. The training is supposed to be tough though, isn't it?"

"Somehow," Harry began. "I doubt it's harder than camping in the middle of nowhere for months while lugging around a horrible dark object, trying to find more of these dark objects with no clue as to where they are while a maniacal dark wizard attempts to find and kill you."

"You raise a good point, Harry." Ron said with a grin.

"So when do you guys move into this new place?" Ginny asked.

"In a couple weeks," Harry said.

"It's going to be nice to have our own space," Ron said, leaning back in his chair.

"Excuse me?" Hermione said indignantly. "Didn't know we were crowding you—"

"That-That's not what I meant—" Ron sputtered. "From my mum and everyone. Not you—"

"Are you still going to stay at The Burrow?" Ginny asked Hermione.

"Yes," she replied. "I can't live in the Muggle world anymore. I love my parents and I can see them whenever I want. And that's enough."

At that moment, the waitress came and took their orders.

The rest of the evening was spent talking and joking. Harry stroked Ginny's hand under the table, listening to Ron and Hermione bicker about house-elves. He felt content and like maybe things were falling into place.

Perhaps this normal thing wasn't so hard after all.


	3. Darkness Overhead

AN: While this story will deal mostly with the trio plus Ginny, I am going to look at other characters' lives (as in this chapter). Sorry if these parts bore you, but I think it's important to examine how this war affected the wizarding world as a whole and not just the four main characters.

Chapter Two: Darkness Overhead

"Ron, would you quit acting like a complete nutter and get over here!" Bill called.

Ron had been levitating a bunch of his shrunken possessions and watching them soar around the room. "This is so boring," he said a bit grumpily.

"You're moving, Ron," Bill said. "It's not exactly supposed to hold the same level of excitement as a championship Quidditch match. Now put those things in the bag." Ron directed the items he was levitating into a bag at Bill's feet.

"Is that the last of it?" Bill asked.

"I think so."

They left Ron's room and made their way downstairs. Harry and Ginny were talking; Harry's bag was beside him.

"You ready, mate?" Harry asked.

Ron grinned in response.

"Well, if you no longer need my help," Bill said. "I'm going to back to Shell Cottage. Have fun setting the new place up. I'll see you later."

He apparated on the spot and immediately appeared inside his kitchen at Shell Cottage. Fleur was waiting for him. She looked somewhat nervous and was clutching The Daily Prophet in her hands.

"Oh Bill! 'ave you seen zis?" She held up The Prophet.

Bill shook his head. "I was in Ron's room all morning. What is it?" He grabbed the paper and began to read:

_DEATH EATERS STILL AT LARGE; MUGGLE MURDERS NOT OVER_

_It would seem that the defeat of You-Know-Who does not mean that the streets are once again safe for Muggles or those who call them friends. Last night, aurors were contacted when four Muggles were found slain in their Kent home. The Muggles bore the signs of having suffered the Avada Kedavra curse. The tell-tale Dark Mark was raised above their house._

_Some Muggle-borns remain terrified that You-Know-Who is not really gone, despite the fact that a body was found at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. "He came back once before, didn't he?" Mark Midgen said. "He wasn't a normal wizard. That body doesn't mean nothing. Even if he is gone, his followers are still out there. They murdered those Muggles, didn't they?" Midgen has stated that he is moving his family to America until he can be sure that the threat has passed._

_Other Muggle-borns are taking similar precautions as the Midgen family, while some insist that leaving is not the answer. "We didn't fight so we would have to run," student Dennis Creevey said. "My dad and I are staying here. And I'm going back to Hogwarts." Creevey lost his older brother Colin in the final battle._

_Whatever choice Muggle-borns make, it seems clear that the dangers have not ended with the destruction of You-Know-Who. Aurors have yet to determine any suspects for the Muggle killings._

_On a related note, Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt has recently agreed to waive N.E.W.T. exams for those students who wish to become aurors and fought at the final battle. "With incidents like these, we see that recruiting the best witches and wizards for the auror department is just as important now as it was before," Shacklebolt said. "The students who fought at Hogwarts showed courage and quick-thinking beyond what any written exam could measure." Those interested in taking on auror training in September are instructed to owl the auror department as soon as possible._

Bill looked up when he had finished reading. Fleur was watching him intently. "It is not over," she said, her hands shaking. "Can we really raise a family in zis—zis—"

Bill put his hands over hers. "It's going to be okay. We knew everything wouldn't be perfect over night. Remember, my dad talked about how this happened the last time…there's always going to be some evil—"

"But, should we still try to 'ave a child?" She asked. "With all of zis going on? I am not so sure."

"Listen," Bill said, looking into her eyes. "There's never going to be a perfect time to try and start a family. My parents had us right in the middle of the last war. We just have to go on with our lives. If we don't, they win."

She smiled up at him, though her eyes were filled with tears.

"So, I say we keep trying," he told her. "And when it happens, it happens. Okay?"

Fleur nodded and they hugged. Bill breathed in the scent of her hair. He, too, was scared to bring a child into a world that still had a cloud of darkness looming over it, but this situation called for a different kind of bravery. And he was a Gryffindor, damnit.

~*~*~

Harry lay on his bed listening to the thuds and thumps coming from the other bedroom as Ron moved his furniture around. He had already finished unpacking his things and was thinking about the future. A copy of The Daily Prophet sat at his side, complete with a moving picture of the Dark Mark.

If he was honest with himself, Harry had already known that the danger was not over, that it would never be over. After all, there had been wars for centuries before his time. And there would be wars for centuries after. He would probably even live to see at least one more Dark Wizard come to power. Dumbledore had to deal with Grindelwald and Voldemort – twice. It would be foolish to assume that just because Tom Riddle's body now lay in the ground, there would no longer be any darkness in the world.

But Harry had held onto a small childish hope – that the darkness would perhaps wait until he was ready to deal with it again. He had thought of playing professional Quidditch. He wasn't sure if he was good enough, but he had been the youngest house player in over a century, hadn't he? He had won the Quidditch cup various times and pulled off some truly spectacular catches.

However, there was something in Harry that would not let him play Quidditch. Perhaps the same thing that had made him want to destroy Voldemort in the first place. He could not sit idly by while others fought to make the world a better place.

He took out a quill and a piece of parchment and quickly wrote out a letter to the auror department, expressing his interest in studying with them. As always when he wrote a letter these days, he felt a pang in his chest for his lost owl. Hedwig had been so much more than a pet. She had been his first birthday present from his first real friend. He sighed and made his way to Ron's room, where Ron was plastering his Chudley Cannons posters up on the walls.

"Hey, can I borrow Pig? I want to send my letter to the auror department," Harry told him.

"Sure," Ron said. "Just give me one second." He took out his own quill and parchment, scribbled a note, and handed it to Harry. "Send that with yours, alright mate? I think I'll give it a go too."

Harry went over to Pigwidgeon's cage and opened it. The hyper little owl flew out of the cage and circled the room a few times before finally letting Harry tie the letters to his leg. Ron rolled his eyes at the owl and muttered, "Stupid bird." But Harry knew better than to take Ron's insults against his pets seriously.

"We need to go out and get furniture sometime this week," Harry said to Ron. "The rest of the rooms in this place look depressingly empty."

Ron groaned. "That's going to be a nightmare, it is."

"I don't know," Harry said. "We're blokes. It's not like we really care what loveseat we get."

Ron nodded. "That's true."

"I just think if the girls come over, we should probably have somewhere for them to sit."

Ron grinned. "Hermione doesn't need anywhere to sit. I think we'd be perfectly comfortable in the bedroom." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Please never do that again," Harry said. Ron chuckled.

"What are you doing later?" Harry asked. "You up for some Quidditch?"

"I can't. I told George I would come into work today. He wants to go through some of the inventory and old and new products," Ron told him.

"Alright. Well I'll see you later then. I'm going to see Ginny."

"Wasn't the whole point of moving out of my parents' house to…not be in parents' house?"

Harry smiled. "Sure, but your mum is making dinner and we don't have any furniture. So I think I'll go over there for tonight." He took out his wand, twisted on the spot, and apparated to the Burrow.

~*~*~

George was rummaging through the store cupboards when he felt hands on his shoulders. He jumped and turned around in one motion. Ron was snickering.

"Scared you, did I?" He said between fits of laughter. George glowered, but eventually felt himself beginning to smile.

"I have to get you back for all the times you and Fred did it to me!"

George's smile instantly faded at the mention of his twin. "So er—" he said, attempting to change the subject. "I wanted to go through our inventory and see what products we might want to put on sale and discontinue. And there are a couple of new ones I thought you could take a look at –just prototypes—to see if you think the ideas are any good."

"Alright," Ron said. The two boys began going through the older products, determining which ones were not big enough sellers to continue making. They marveled again at the success of the Skiving Snackboxes, which Fred and George had perfected during their seventh year at Hogwarts. The Snackboxes continued to be their best sellers.

"Amazing really," George said. "Even when the students aren't in school, they come down to stock up on them, I—"

"George," Ron interrupted and his tone was decidedly un-Ron-like. It was quiet and sincere. "Can I ask you something?"

"What is it?" George asked, not sure if he liked where this was going.

"Are you—are you seeing anyone?"

George said nothing, but continued to count the containers of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder in storage.

"It's just—I have Hermione…and Ginny has Harry, Bill has Fleur…Percy has…well Percy has his job…and Charlie has his dragons…"

"I have the shop," George muttered.

"But I think it would help," Ron began with a note of hesitancy in his voice. "To have someone to talk to about everyth—"

"Would you shut it Ron?!" George snapped. Suddenly the storage room felt cramped and suffocating. He was running out of air. "I'm going for a walk," he mumbled.

He walked out of the shop and into the sultry summer day. A warm rain had begun to fall. The truth was that George wasn't seeing anyone, but he had _seen_ someone. Just once.

Fred's funeral had been a dismal affair. There was no other way around it. It had been held at Hogwarts—all of the families that had had someone die in the final battle were given the option of holding the funeral at Hogwarts.

George remembered his mother asking, "Was it what he would have wanted? After all, he did drop out of Hogwarts…maybe—"

"No." George had said quietly. "It's what he would have wanted." Yes, they had dropped out, but Hogwarts was still their home for the better part of seven years. It had been the place where they had triumphed and where they had failed, where they had won Quidditch games and where they had lost them, where they held victory parties and smuggled Butterbeers from Hogsmeade, where they had made their best friends, where they had explored the castle with more gusto than any students before them, where they had raised a resistance against Umbridge, where they had perfected many of their joke shop items, where they had found themselves, really. But George did not have to explain this to his family. They took his word for it.

So they had gathered at Hogwarts, and there had been so many people there, so many classmates, even ones that Fred had never spoken to. But he had touched them in some way because that was the type of person Fred had been—everybody knew him.

And George had barely heard a word that anyone said during the funeral. He felt like somebody had switched him off. There was a distinct buzzing noise in his ears. Maybe he was filtering out the sad words himself and he didn't even know it. But it seemed to go on for an age. And then finally, everyone was standing up to leave, to go to a party in Fred's honor.

But George couldn't.

He knew his twin would have been mad at him. He knew that Fred would have wanted him to find a way to sneak a bottle of mead into the party, spike the punch, and watch all the younger Hogwarts students get drunk, but George just didn't have it in him. This was who he was without Fred—a shell of his former self. Half of him was gone and would never come back.

He walked away from his family and towards the lake. No one tried to stop him. They understood. Or rather, they understood that they couldn't possibly understand what it was he was feeling.

George had already made it one time around the lake when he heard a voice behind him, "Are you okay?"

He turned, ready to snap at the person, because how could he possibly be okay? But his expression softened when he saw who it was. Angelina Johnson. "Hi," he said quietly. "And no, I can't say I'm really okay."

"Me neither," she whispered. They walked together in silence for awhile. Fred and Angelina had gone to the Yule Ball together and had dated ever since.

"I haven't seen you in awhile," George said, breaking the silence.

"I know. It's been a stressful year hasn't it? I was on holiday for your brother's wedding and then…well with everything going on, Fred and I didn't get to see each other a lot…" There was a longing note of regret in her voice. "I just miss him. So much."

"Me too," George said. And he felt a weight lifting off his shoulders. For the moment, at least, someone knew exactly what he was feeling.

And suddenly there were talking freely about Fred. They were sharing memories of him and it wasn't all sad. A lot of it was funny and good. And George found himself smiling for the first time since his brother was killed.

"—and the way he asked me to the Yule Ball. I couldn't believe that. In front of everyone."

"Yeah," George said. "He was something else. I never could have done that. I would have been too scared. Especially with someone like you—"

She laughed. "What do you mean?"

"Well you're smart and funny and pretty—"

He broke off when he realized what he was saying. They had stopped walking and were staring at each other.

"Thanks George," she said quietly. "I…I…"

She didn't finish. At the same moment they leaned in and their lips met. George ran his hands through her hair as they continued to kiss. Their tongues mingled together and George felt content, even peaceful. They broke apart breathing heavily.

"You want to come to my apartment?" George asked, still holding one of her hands.

She nodded and they apparated to the flat that George had shared with Fred, the flat that up until that moment, he hadn't had the courage to go back to.

But as he walked into his bedroom with Angelina, the flat did not feel so empty.

They made love and fell asleep holding each other. When George awoke, she was gone.

And he did not contact her, couldn't bring himself to do it. She had not owled or come to see him either. He felt guilty and ashamed. He had betrayed Fred on the very day of his funeral. George could not justify or even explain his actions. He had felt different with her, different than he had with anyone since Fred had died. He had felt complete again, like maybe Angelina brought a piece of Fred back.

George kicked a stone that was lying on the road and cursed under his breath. It wouldn't do to try to capture something that was lost forever.


	4. Time For Change

AN: Thanks to those who reviewed. I appreciate it To the one reviewer who was worried about Victoire's birthday; don't worry. I know she isn't born until the following year. I have a plan. But I appreciate your dedication to the word of JKR. Enjoy everyone.

Chapter Three: Time for Change

"Where to next?" Ron asked.

"Flourish and Blott's," Hermione replied.

"Shocking," Ron said.

Hermione smacked him on the arm. "I have quite a lot of books this year. I can't say I'm surprised. N.E.W.T. study is supposed to _very_ intense. I just hope that I've learned enough. I wouldn't want to fall behind—"

"Hermione," Ron said with exasperation. "Are you kidding me? You're the cleverest witch of your age. We've all had that pounded into our skulls for the last seven years by about a dozen people."

"Certainly not a dozen, Ron. And people were just—"

Ron kissed her on the lips, partly just to get her to shut up, but mostly because the urge sometimes became too powerful to resist. The kiss seemed to have the desired effect. As they parted, Hermione seemed to have forgotten exactly what she was going to say.

"…Er-"

"That's what I thought," Ron said with a grin.

They were strolling lazily down Diagon Alley. The days had turned humid as they headed into August. Hermione had received her Hogwarts letter the day before (Professor McGonagall had, it seemed, heard of Harry and Ron's aspirations to be aurors for they had not received letters), and had insisted on purchasing her school supplies the very next day.

Even though Ron was happy about his choice to go into auror training, he was beginning to feel panicked at the thought of Hermione leaving for Hogwarts. It was true that he had reassured her at the beginning of the summer that he would visit, and he would. But suddenly the summer felt criminally short. He hadn't been away from Hermione since he had left her and Harry in the woods. At this thought, a quick, swooping feeling of shame erupted in the pit of his stomach. He tried to push it away. And before that? There had only been a few weeks here and there during the past few summers…

"You know, I'm going to miss you when I go to school," Hermione said as if reading his mind.

"I'm going to miss you too," Ron said quietly.

"But I think it might be better that you're going to auror training – you know –for Harry," she said. "He's—He's been through a lot and I know he has Ginny, but he's still—there's something—"

"I know," Ron said simply. And he did know. Harry was his first true friend, after all. And he knew Harry needed him, needed both of them really. And Hermione was right—there was something just off about Harry. He was quieter than usual (even for Harry) and when he joked with the rest of them, the laughter didn't quite reach his eyes.

Ron flashed back to the aftermath of the final battle, when Harry had explained everything to them. He had sounded distant and numb for much of it, perhaps taking great pains to separate himself from the magnitude of it all, so he wouldn't be swallowed by it.

"…_and Dumbledore planned it all," he had told them. "He knew I would have to—to die. And Snape was mad at him. He thought they had been trying to save me. Well, I knew what I had to do. I thought it would be—er—permanent of course. But I went to the forest. And I realized what the Snitch was for."_

_He paused for a long moment. Hermione had finally prompted him, "What, Harry?" She said gently._

"…_I told it I was about to die. And the resurrection stone was in there. And they came back…"_

"_Your parents?" Hermione asked._

_Harry nodded. "And Sirius and—" his voice cracked "Remus and Tonks." _

_Another pause and then, "My parents said they were proud of me."_

_He had continued then, telling them how he went to the forest, prepared to let Voldemort take his life, how Voldemort hadn't wasted much time in casting the curse, how the green light had rushed toward him, and how he had a vision or dream or whatever it was, of a parallel-universe King's Cross and Dumbledore and a creature, of something that made him shudder with revulsion and at the same time, feel an echo of sympathy. _

"_It was him," he had said. "What he was going to be."_

Ron was brought back to the present by Hermione's voice. "He'll be okay; I know he will. But even with everything he did and how brave he was and how he saved everyone, he still feels…"

"Guilty," Ron finished.

"I think it's been worse than it was at the beginning of the summer," Hermione said. "Look how much time he's spending with Teddy—not that it's a bad thing—"

"Yeah," Ron said. He had perhaps an inkling of why Harry was feeling worse lately. While time certainly helped to heal wounds, it also made the absence of people you loved more apparent. Whenever all the Weasleys had dinner at the Burrow, Ron couldn't help but glance at Fred's empty seat and whenever he was in the joke shop, he half-expected Fred to come bounding out from between the shelves, shoving a new product under Ron's nose and proclaiming that no, he definitely did not get a discount because he was their brother. But it never happened. And Ron was always disappointed, in a way that made Fred's death hit him just as it had at Hogwarts.

"Yeah," Ron repeated. "I'm glad I'm staying with him too."

They reached Flourish and Blott's and entered the shop. Hermione's face brightened at once and she took off amongst the tomes, pulling volumes off at random that weren't even on her Hogwarts list.

"And this one! You never know when you might need _999 Magical Species and What They Can Do For You_—" She said rapidly, without drawing a breath.

"_Hermione_," Ron said through gritted teeth. "You're not even sitting for the Care of Magical Creatures N.E.W.T."

"It never hurts to be prepared," Hermione said. "Not to mention if another student needs help, I should be well-versed in all subjects—"

"I didn't realize it was one of the responsibilities of the Head Girl to make sure everyone passes their classes," Ron told her.

But Hermione, it seemed, had barely heard what he had really said. Instead, her face shined at the mention of the Head Girl position. "I still can't believe Professor McGonagall made me Head Girl. After missing last year and everything I was sure she would give it to someone who had completed their years consecutively—"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Who, in Merlin's name, is more qualified than you to be Head Girl of that place? I could have told you she was bound to pick you. You're a nutter when it comes to that stuff."

Hermione pursed her lips at him, but failed to look annoyed for long.

Ron picked a book off the shelf and waved it in front of her. "Look! _Unfogging the Future II: An Updated Guide to the Inner Eye_! You better keep up on your Divination; who knows who might need help in the subject!" He said innocently.

She smacked him for the second time that day, but laughed. They spent another half hour in the book store as Hermione made sure she had all the books she wanted – both the required volumes and the ones that she wanted merely for background reading. They decided that it was a fine day for ice cream and headed off to the recently reopened Florean Fortescue's for some peanut butter and strawberry cones, arguing playfully along the way.

~*~*~

Kingsley Shacklebolt sat at his desk, glancing briefly over a report about the ongoing investigation of the Muggle attacks that had taken place in Kent in July. There had been little progress in discovering those responsible, and the public was looking for answers. _The Daily Prophet_, whose attitude always seemed to play upon the fears of the people, was spinning tales of paranoia already, only a month after it had been proclaiming the future of the wizarding world to be an optimistic one.

The problem was that there was so much to correct that it was going to take time to get to it all. Kingsley had been working tirelessly since the end of the final battle to ensure that the Ministry was no longer a safe haven to those who had rallied around Voldemort's pureblood mania during the war. Finally feeling secure in his own workplace and confident that he had a complete staff he could trust, it was time to address some of the larger issues that had plagued wizarding government for a very long time.

Kingsley grabbed a list of names sitting on his desk and raked his eyes over it. He had decided, with so much to do, that he would need help, more help than the heads of each department could possible give while handling their own issues. He also needed people he could trust absolutely, people he knew had the same vision for their world as he did, and people who would take up responsibility, knowing it was their duty to help make things better. Thus, he was organizing a list of people to be on a panel that would help make major decisions within the ministry. There were many names from the Order. And Kingsley knew it would be difficult to ask them to jump back into the fray when they had just finished fighting. But at least, this time, they wouldn't be risking their lives.

Kingsley looked at the names again.

Arthur Weasley

Molly Weasley

Bill Weasley

George Weasley

Percy Weasley

Harry Potter

Hermione Granger

Ron Weasley

Minerva McGonagall

Hestia Jones

Rubeus Hagrid

Neville Longbottom

He was pleased with the list. He had wanted a mix of the younger and older generations, and also felt that it was important to treat the heroes of the second war as more than just children who had been at the right place at the right time. They had fought bravely, and they deserved to have a say in how their world would be rebuilt.

The one glaring weakness that Kingsley could see in his advisors was that magical creatures were not represented. Only Hagrid who was half-giant was not a full wizard. Still, after the passing of Dobby, Kingsley did not know of another house-elf who would want to take up the post. True, the house-elves at Hogwarts had fought for their side, but they had quietly gone back to the kitchens after the final battle, and certainly, none of the elves seemed as eager as Dobby for social change.

In addition, the death of Remus Lupin meant that werewolves were not represented either. Kingsley did not know any other werewolves, and certainly none were in the Ministry's employ. This, too, would have to change.

But this was a good first step, Kingsley thought to himself. Perhaps other species would not be speaking for themselves at first, but at least their interests would be taken under advisement, unlike in the previous administration.

He wrote a letter to his secretary, asking him to send owls to each of the people on the list, inviting them to attend a meeting with him in three days time. He flicked his wand and letter and list turned into paper airplanes and zoomed out of his office.

~*~*~

"I still don't understand why _I_ wasn't invited," Ginny snapped at her brother.

"You're not even of age yet," Ron said simply. He was sitting on the couch at the Burrow, using his wand to make a sandwich hover in front of his mouth. He leaned forward and took a bite. Ginny, who was sitting on the floor, rolled her eyes.

"And I can see you are putting your greatly developed magical powers to enormous use," Ginny said sarcastically as Ron wiped the crumbs off his mouth. "You lazy prat. Besides, I'll be 17 in a week!"

"Yeah…in a week. Besides, who even knows what he wants," Ron said.

"I heard you, Bill, mom, and dad talking about it. They said it's going to be about helping the Ministry!" Ginny said in protest.

"How'd you hear that?"

"Extendable Ears," Ginny said simply. "Thought I was a little old to have to be using them, but if I'm not going to be included in the conversation—"

"Ginny, would you just keep your pants on? I'm sure if we're doing something that important, you can help after you're done with your seventh year. Why is it so important to you anyway?"

"Why wouldn't it be important to me?" Ginny said, sounding hurt. "I want to help…and my whole family is involved and…" She trailed off.

"Harry," Ron finished.

"Well…" Ginny said. "Yeah."

Ron seemed to soften at this. "Just go to Hogwarts and have fun," he said. "It's not like Hermione or Harry won't tell you everything anyway. You'll still know what's going on. But you can keep your mind on important things."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "School work?"

Ron squinted at her in a disbelieving manner and shook his head. "No. No. Of course not. Quidditch."

Ginny grinned. "Alright, alright. But if Hermione or Harry doesn't tell me something, you better tell me."

"Deal," Ron told her. He finished the last bite of his sandwich that was floating in front of him. Then he let out a moan of impatience. "I am so bored!"

"What's Hermione doing?"

"She's off buying quills and parchment and some other stuff we didn't get in Diagon Alley the other day. I didn't really feel like spending hours of my day doing that. But we're going to dinner with her parents when she comes back." He looked at his watch. "Which should be soon."

"Is that why you came to visit me?" Ginny asked. "Nothing better to do?"

"Actually I thought Harry would be here," Ron said. "I was going to drag him away from you. Where is he?"

"He said he was going to visit Teddy, but when I asked to come he said no. So I know he's gone to get my birthday present!" Ginny finished with a note of triumph in her voice. "What did _you_ get me for my birthday?" She asked excitedly.

"I'm going to give you a jinx, but I haven't decided which one yet," Ron told her.

"Oooooooooh frightening," she said mysteriously, wiggling her fingers. "With you on the case, I better fear for my life. I should probably write to Hogwarts and tell them I won't be back for my seventh year after all—"

"Shut up," Ron said.

Ginny continued to sound mock-afraid. "I better write one last declaration of love to Harry and let him know that Ickle Ronniekins blew me to smithereens with his jinx—"

"Shut up!"

"Or what?" She said grinning. "Are you going to curse me when Mum is right upstairs?"

He looked down at his wand, realizing that he she was right. But just as Ginny was looking victorious, he leapt off the couch, pinned her to the ground, and started tickling her.

"Don't—don't--," She could barely speak for laughing. "Come on—I'm done! I'm done! I really am scared of your jinx now!"

Ron stopped tickling her and stood up. "That's what I thought," he said as Ginny lay on the ground, continuing to catch her breath.

"So," she said after having sufficient time to recover from Ron's tickle attack. "Are you nervous about going to dinner with her parents? I mean…when was the last time you saw them?"

"When we were kids," Ron said. "Just between the summers once in awhile. Dad would keep bothering them with all of his Muggle questions."

"So…are you nervous?"

"Hey, I helped save the wizarding world as we know it. I don't ever get nervous," Ron said.

"Terrified?

"Yeah."

Ginny grinned.

"I mean," Ron began. "I'm sure they're nice and at all, but they're Muggles and I haven't really talked to a lot of Muggles…"

"Well, it's not like this stuff will all be strange to them," Ginny said thoughtfully. "They've had letters from Hermione the entire time she was at Hogwarts. I'm sure they know a ton about the wizarding world."

At that moment, they heard a pop in the kitchen.

"RON! RON!" Someone shouted. "ARE YOU HERE?"

"Oy, Hermione," Ron called. "You don't have to scream your lungs out. We're right here."

Hermione walked into the living room. "I figured you would be her since you weren't at your house."

"Yeah…I was bored so I came to find Harry—got stuck with this one instead," he said with a nod at Ginny. Ginny stuck her tongue out at him. Ron ignored her and continued talking to Hermione, "Did you buy enough quills? I know how you like to take ten into each exam with you in case the first nine break."

"Honestly, Ron. That's just good sense. Maybe if you had brought an extra quill or two--"

"—or seven" Ron muttered to Ginny.

"—you wouldn't have needed to interrupt me during our Charms exam in fourth year when you needed to borrow one. I was right in the middle of discussing the best use of a Cheering Charm too—"

"Alright, enough with the lecture," Ron said, rolling his eyes. "I get it, I get it. Ginny? Did you hear this? Important lesson you just learned, here. Should we get going then?"

"Yes, it is about time. Let's go. Bye Ginny!"

"See you Hermione."

"Bye midget," Ron said with a smirk and apparated before Ginny could respond. Hermione disappeared shortly after him and Ginny was left alone.

She heaved a great sigh. Though Ron had actually somewhat cheered her up about the matter, she was still upset that she wouldn't be able to go this meeting, to help the Ministry when everyone that she loved would be doing something important. She hated being the young one sometimes. She was almost 17 and it still got in the damn way.

Ginny shook her head. She was behaving like a petulant brat. Everything was fine. She would be of age soon; then she could use magic for stupid things just like her lazy brothers. And she would have a good year at Hogwarts with Hermione and then decide what to do next.


	5. The Ministry

Chapter Four: The Ministry

Hermione knocked on her parents' door. Ron shifted nervously on the doorstep, already feeling somewhat uncomfortable. It seemed strange that she was practically already a member of his family, and yet he barely knew hers.

Mrs. Granger answered the door. "I'm so glad you two have come!" She said beaming. They followed her into the living room. She hugged Hermione tightly.

"It's good to see you mum," Hermione said.

"And let's take a look at you," Mrs. Granger said, surveying Ron. "It's been so long since I've seen you. You were just children then. Hermione's told me everything you've all been up to of course."

She surprised Ron by leaning in and hugging him too.

"Ah…they're here!" Mr. Granger had just entered the room. He, too, hugged Hermione and then shook Ron's hand.

"Nice to see you again," Ron said.

Hermione asked about their jobs, and Ron's mind drifted out of the conversation, as he really had no idea what Mr. Granger was talking about when describing the procedures. He found himself studying Hermione as they spoke. She was gesturing as she talked and her frizzy hair seemed to take on a life of its own. Her eyes were completely focused on her father. She was so beautiful; she was—

"Ron?" She had turned to look at him with a concerned look on her face. "Are you okay?"

"Wha…yeah," he said slightly confused.

"My mother just asked how your family is doing," Hermione said.

"Oh…er…right sorry." Mr. Granger grinned at him as if to say, 'I know what it's like to be your age'. Ron felt himself beginning to turn red. He cleared his throat. "They're doing well. My brother's joke shop is raking in the galleons. And my father's being promoted at the ministry. My mum just enjoys having everyone around. You should come for dinner sometime. She would really like that."

The Grangers' smiled. "That would be wonderful," Mrs. Granger said. "I do adore your parents. Is your father still fascinated by Muggles?"

"Of course," Ron said. "His plug collection is the biggest it's ever been. I'm sure he'll have loads of questions when you come round."

They passed the next few minutes joking about all the possible questions Arthur Weasley would have for the Grangers when they came to the Burrow. Then Mrs. Granger led them all into the dining room for a meal of pork chops and potatoes.

"How's Harry doing?" Mr. Granger asked Hermione as they ate. "You should bring him along for dinner some time as well."

"He's Harry," Hermione said. "I guess he's dealing with everything the best he can. I know he feels guilty for a lot of things."

"Guilty?" Mrs. Granger said. "But he saved the world."

"A lot of people died mum," Hermione said quietly. "I told you that. A lot of people Harry cared about."

"How are you holding up?" Mrs. Granger said softly, turning to Ron. "After what happened to your brother?"

Ron knew she was trying to be nice, even comforting, but there was a ringing in his ears now. And he was back at Hogwarts and Fred was joking one minute and dead the next. It had seemed like the only thing he could hear was everyone crying; the noises of the battle had gone mute. And they had carried him to the Great Hall, and their mother had let out a wail of grief that Ron still sometimes heard in his dreams.

"_Mum_!" Hermione admonished. She was looking at him concerned.

But he was still off in another world. Or really another time. Maybe it was another world. It was divided now – the time that Fred was there. And the time that Fred was not. He tried to find his voice, but his mouth was dry. And a panicked feeling started rising in his chest. Fred would never be back. Never. Never. The rest of them would grow and celebrate weddings and have children. And pictures of Fred would always remain the same. He wouldn't age with them.

Ron stood from the table. He tried to say he was sorry, but still couldn't get his voice to work. He gave them an apologetic look, left the house, and disappeared.

~*~*~

"I figured I'd find you here," a voice whispered.

Ron turned and saw Hermione. It had been about an hour since he left her parents' house. He was on the Hogwarts' grounds, at Fred's grave, clutching a bottle of firewhiskey in one hand.

"Yeah well I remembered you saying they wouldn't put the protective enchantments back up until a week before classes started," He said dully.

Ron was sitting down, leaning on Fred's tombstone. Hermione joined him and laid her head on his shoulder. "I'm really sorry, Ron," she said quietly. "I don't know why my mum said that."

The firewhiskey had done what Ron could not do alone; it gave him the courage to speak. "No I'm sorry. I do—don't know what happened. It's just weird. I have these moments where it just all feels too real and permanent—" He took a shaky breath. "I hope your parents aren't mad at me. I'll apologize."

"Don't be silly," she said. "They're not mad. My mum felt bad. She just wanted you to be comfortable talking to them. I told her that you aren't that comfortable talking to many people about that kind of thing."

"Maybe just you," Ron whispered and squeezed her hand. She gave a contented sigh. Ron absentmindedly began playing with her hair. He took another swig from the bottle of firewhiskey.

"Is that really necessary?" Hermione asked, though her voice was concerned and not annoyed.

"Sure. I'm drinking to his memory." Ron felt warm inside now, partially because of the firewhiskey and partially because of the beautiful girl sitting next to him.

"You're perfect, you know that?" He breathed.

She looked up and smiled. "Thank you. I think you're perfect too."

He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. "I was always fascinated by you, even in first year when you were a right pain in the arse," Ron said.

She laughed. "You and Harry frustrated me so much. I just wanted you to follow the rules."

He gave a low chuckle, but turned serious once more. "We had some good times, I mean, didn't we? It wasn't all bad. It wasn't all risking our lives and being scared all the time. We were happy too, right?" There was a pleading note in his voice. For some reason, it was important to him to hear her affirm this, to assure him that though their adolescent years had been rife with danger and pain, there was still something to hold onto.

"We had _great_ times," she said. "Even through everything else, we managed to have fun; that's pretty special. Remember the troll? That was scary at the time, but it brought us all together."

Ron smiled. "Yeah. And then remember second year when you were obsessed with Lockhart?" He snickered.

"I remember in second year you were obsessed with me being obsessed with Lockhart," she said pointedly. "You were jealous."

"No I wasn't," Ron said. "I just knew the bloke was a complete fake. And I turned out to be right." He grinned at her.

"Yeah well, I was young and stupid." She paused. "Remember our first trip to Hogsmeade?"

"Harry couldn't go because of the Dursleys," Ron said. "We still had a great time. Remember when you hit Malfoy?" Ron laughed.

"It's nice to hear you laughing," Hermione said. "See…we did have some good times."

"Yeah," Ron said. "We did."

A steady rain began to fall. Hermione pulled out her wand and charmed their robes to repel the water. They sat there together, watching and listening to the cold rain, never letting it touch them.

~*~*~

Arthur Weasley felt tense as he and his family entered the Ministry. He knew what this meeting was about, knew that Kingsley was going to ask them all to help. He, of course, was glad to do so, but he felt a pang for his children, who, in some ways, had never really had the opportunity to be children at all. And now they would be asked to do even more.

"Right this way, Arthur," a Ministry witch called to him and led them all to the Minister's conference room. His children, wife, Harry and Hermione were quieter than usual, a testament to the seriousness of the situation.

Kingsley Shacklebolt was waiting for them. He struck an impressive figure sitting in a high-backed chair at the end of the table. He stood as they arrived. "Welcome, welcome," he said. "Please take a seat."

They did as they were instructed. "We're just waiting for a few others," Kingsley said after a moment. The door opened once again and Minerva McGonagall and Hestia Jones came in, followed closely by Neville Longbottom.

"Neville!" Ron shouted in surprise, breaking the somewhat uncomfortable silence.

He grinned. "All right, Ron?"

Suddenly, the doorway widened and grew, and Rubeus Hagrid came through.

"Nice ter see you all," he said waving. They all exchanged quick greetings.

"Okay, this is everyone," Kingsley said. "Let's get started. I want to thank you all for coming today. As I'm sure many of you have guessed, I am going to be asking your help in rebuilding the Ministry of Magic. As we all know, during the war the Ministry was nothing more than a puppet government that was used as another weapon of Voldemort's. We can't let that happen again. Moreover, it is time for change in the Ministry. Prejudiced attitudes that have been in place for decades, even centuries, have made it easy for evil wizards like Voldemort to rally followers. Change has to start somewhere. Some of you, I have specific tasks I will ask of you and others, I would like you to think of where you believe you would be best-suited. You are here because of your bravery, trustworthiness, and dedication to a better magical world."

"Harry Potter and Ron Weasley," he said, his voice booming. "I trust you are still going forward with your plan to train as aurors?"

"Er—yeah," Harry said as Ron nodded.

"Excellent. As you know we lost many aurors during the war, including Alastor Moody and Nymphadora Tonks, two of our finest. Hestia Jones," he gestured to the black-haired woman sitting across from Ron, "is an experienced auror. I think the three of you together can revolutionize the auror department. Just because the threat of Voldemort himself is gone doesn't mean we don't still need aurors, as recent Muggle attacks have shown. We'll talk more specifically about exactly what this will entail later," Kingsley finished as the three nodded.

"Hermione Granger," he said and she jumped at the mention of her name. "You are going back to Hogwarts for your seventh year; is that correct?"

Hermione nodded.

"Excellent, well your N.E.W.T studies should prove to be valuable in the task I wish to set for you. I would like you to oversee the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. There is already a head of the department for the day-to-day business, but I want you to try and establish goals that the department needs to meet. Find out what the magical creatures themselves want. For example, these ridiculous anti-werewolf laws must go. Now you probably will only be able to do some of the research aspect while you attend Hogwarts, but I will be in touch. Would you like to take this challenge on?"

"Oh yes," Hermione said excitedly. "It would be an honor."

Kingsley smiled at her and continued conversing with various members of the conference, giving Arthur the task of rewriting laws related to Muggles and Muggle-borns. When it was all said and done, the meeting lasted over an hour and Kingsley promised to contact each person directly with more individualized plans of action.

In contrast to how they entered the Ministry, the group was talkative as they left.

"Wow," Ron said amazed. "We're really going to be doing it. Helping and everything."

"Don't get big ideas, Ron," his mother said. "Kingsley needs all of our help, but you should still do your best to stay out of trouble. I think you lot have earned a rest after everything—"

"You're not resting!" Ron interrupted. "You're helping too!"

"Yes, well I've been of age for more than two years. I think I have a little more—"

"Molly," Arthur said. "They are good kids and they want to help. They've earned that right."

Her expression softened at once. "All of you best be careful. Like Kingsley said, the danger isn't over."


	6. Acceptance

AN:  Thanks to those who have reviewed so far. I appreciate it.

Chapter Five: Acceptance

Molly Weasley was slightly frazzled as she pointed her wand at the oven and a giant cake came zooming out.

"George! Ginny! Enough!" She shouted.

The two had been taking turns using their wands to send gifts soaring at Percy. Intermittent shouts could be heard from the living room as Percy fended off the attacking presents.

Despite herself, Molly felt her annoyance give way to amusement. Really, she wouldn't want the Burrow to be any other way than this – bustling with excitement and spells, her children teasing and taunting one another, everyone crowding the living room.

"When's dinner gonna be ready mum?" Ron asked as he came walking into the kitchen, chewing on a licorice wand.

"Shortly," she said and looked up at her youngest son. "Ron! Dinner will be ready soon. Can't you wait until after to start eating sweets?"

He rolled his eyes and Molly pretended not to see it.

There was a knock at the door and Ron went to answer it. Harry and Hermione greeted him, both holding presents.

Harry walked into the living room and set his gift down amongst the others. He heard running footsteps behind him and turned around just in time to catch Ginny as she jumped into his arms.

"Geez," Harry said, though he was smiling. "You would think I haven't seen you in years or something."

He put her down as she smacked him on the arm. "That's no way to treat the birthday girl," she said with a smile.

They shared a kiss and Harry looked up embarrassed, as he became all too aware that the room was filled with people. He greeted the rest of the Weasleys and he and Ginny took seats on the couch, holding hands. The room filled with noise as they all began talking and joking together.

"Dinner's ready!" Mrs. Weasley called from the kitchen. They all rose at once, still chattering, and made their way to the kitchen.

It didn't matter that Harry had been an adopted member of the Weasleys for years – Mrs. Weasley's cooking and the family atmosphere still felt new and wonderful to him. They all sat down at the table for a meal of roast chicken. After over an hour, when everyone had had their fill, and Bill had set the dishes to cleaning themselves, it was time for Ginny to open her presents.

George flicked his wand lazily and the pile of gifts in the living room came soaring into the kitchen and stacked themselves neatly at his feet. George grabbed one and tossed it to Ginny, who caught it.

"Oh…thanks George!" Ginny shouted as she opened up a huge package of Weasleys Wizard Wheezes.

"You have one year left at Hogwarts to make me proud," George said.

Mrs. Weasley eyed the package sternly. "Ginny, you'll be focusing on your studies of course—"

"Definitely mum. I'm not even sure I'll have room in my trunk to take these with me." Mrs. Weasley gave a satisfied nod as Ginny winked at George.

She continued opening up gifts, including a book on famous Chaser plays from Hermione and a large box of sweets from Ron, until she finally came to the last present in the pile, which was from Harry.

It was a long, thin package and Ginny looked at Harry excitedly before ripping the paper off.

"NO WAY!" Ron shouted, as Ginny revealed a brand new broom.

Ginny gave a squeal of excitement and got up to hug Harry tightly. He laughed at her enthusiasm.

"I guess you like it?" Harry asked.

"Like it?! Harry this is amazing!"

It was a Victory – the newest, fastest racing broom now available on the market. It was going to be used at the Quidditch World Cup the following year and all the International Quidditch teams were already starting to use the. It was unlikely that many other students would have a Victory at Hogwarts.

"Well, if you're not too busy making George proud, you have one more season to win the Quidditch Cup for Gryffindor," Harry said with a grin.

Ginny smiled at him. Ron was already asking her if he could have a go.

"Before you lot go play Quidditch, let's cut the cake," Mrs. Weasley told them, setting a gigantic chocolate cake in front of Ginny. They sang happy birthday and Ginny blew out her candles. They all downed a piece of cake before heading out to the garden to try out Ginny's new broom. Bill, Charlie, George, Harry, Ron, and Ginny all took turns trying out the Victory and all of them remarked that it was the best flying experience any of them had ever had.

Hours later, the party had died down. Everyone had gone to bed except for Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione, who were sitting in the garden.

"Well, why don't we go back to your flat?" Hermione asked Ron.

"What for?" Ron said. "I don't really think—" But Hermione was giving him a harsh glare and then gave a pointed look at Harry and Ginny. "Oh, okay. See you then," he said to Harry and Ginny. "Happy birthday midget." He apparated on the spot.

Hermione also said her goodbyes, albeit in a nicer way than Ron, and she too disappeared.

"I guess Hermione wanted to give us some time alone," Ginny said, moving closer to Harry.

"I'm glad," Harry said. "Because I got you something else for your birthday."

"Oh Harry!" Ginny said. "You really didn't have to do that. Even the broom was more than enough."

"Well, I wanted to tell you some things too," he took a deep breath to steady himself and pulled something out of his pocket. "I got you this ring. And it's a promise…that I'll…that I'll always be here for you. I know we haven't had a lot of time together and I know it's not always easy to be with me, but…well…I love you."

It was the first time either of them had said it out loud.

"I love you too Harry," she said simply. She put the ring on her finger and hugged him tightly. They kissed and then broke apart. Ginny looked down at the ring, examining it more closely and laughed. "It's a snitch," she said softly.

"Yeah, well, you're the best catch I've ever made," he said with a grin.

"Oh…Harry Potter," she said in a teasing, but affectionate tone. "Don't go all sappy on me."

"Too late," he said. "I can't ever go back. Expect a love letter from me every day."

"How about some poetry?" She asked, batting her eyes at him.

"Hey, you're the one who wrote poetry before…how did it go…'His eyes are green as a fresh pickled toad…" He sang.

She tackled him from his sitting position. "I can't believe you remember that!" she shouted and started laughing.

She had him pinned to the ground and they were both laughing so hard that it was difficult to breathe. Suddenly, though, it seemed that neither could remember what was so funny. Ginny was staring down at Harry, and felt more love than she'd ever had for a person in her entire life.

"Harry…" she said quietly.

She kissed him softly and his lips returned the pressure. She let her body rest on his as they continued kissing. They lay together for hours, until Harry acknowledged that Ginny's parents were unlikely to rejoice at finding the two of them out there in the morning – adopted son or not – and so he apparated back to his own place, happier, perhaps, than he had ever been.

~*~*~

George apparated back to his flat after Ginny's party still feeling cheerful about the evening he spent with his family. He had long gotten used to having the flat to himself, and Fred's memory no longer seemed to look back at him from every room.

He was listening to Quidditch highlights on the wireless and was on his third firewhiskey when there was a knock on the door.

Assuming that Ron had forgotten what time his shift was the following day, he got up from the sofa and casually threw open the door.

It was Angelina.

His heart seemed to soar and plummet at the same time. His mouth went dry.

"Wha…what are you doing here?" was all he could manage to say.

"We need to talk," she said. "Can I come in?"

He nodded and allowed room for her to enter the flat. His mind was reeling, but somewhere underneath all the emotions he was feeling, he remembered his manners.

"Do you want something to drink?" He asked.

"Sure," she said. She pointed to the firewhiskey bottle that was sitting by the sofa. "I'll have some of that."

He flicked his wand and a glass came flying towards him. He caught it and poured her a generous amount of firewhiskey. He refilled his own glass and motioned for her to join him on the couch.

"So…what is it?" George asked after a few moments of uncomfortable silence.

"George…we can't just pretend like nothing happened." She looked down at her hands. "Well I can't. Maybe you can. But I can't…"

"I'm not sure what you want me to say," He whispered.

"Did what happened between us mean anything at all to you?" She asked incredulously. "You never owled, you never tried to get into contact with me—"

"You never owled me either," George said defensively. "I didn't know what you were feeling."

"Well did it mean something to you?" She asked, and there was a note of pleading in her voice.

"Yes. Yes, of course it did. But it's not that simple. You were with Fred…"

"I know," Angelina said. "But there's something between us…"

"But it's like a betrayal…he was my brother Angelina," George told her.

"I know, but I have feelings for you."

"Fred—"

"FRED'S GONE!" She exploded. "HE'S DEAD! AND YOU REFUSING TO MOVE ON ISN'T GOING TO BRING HIM BACK!"

There was a long pause, during which it seemed that neither of them was breathing.

"Get out," George said finally.

"George, listen to me—"

"I SAID GET OUT!" His expression was equal parts hurt and anger.

She looked at him for a long moment before setting down her glass. She got up and left George sitting there, without glancing back.

As the door shut behind her, George threw his glass angrily at the wall. It shattered into a million pieces. His breathing was heavy. He wanted to hurt someone, to kill someone. Who did she think she was? She and Fred had dated at Hogwarts. So what? She had no idea what it was to lose your brother and best friend. Clearly, he had been mistaken before when he thought she knew what he was feeling. She knew nothing of what he was feeling, and more importantly, didn't care to know.

He grabbed the bottle of firewhiskey and downed the rest of its contents, almost half a bottle. He felt disoriented, like a little kid in a shop who cannot find his mother. He had nowhere to go, nowhere. The alcohol was beginning to take effect now. He apparated.

He knocked loudly on the door, not caring that he was waking the occupants of the flat.

The door opened to reveal Ron.

"George?" Ron asked confused and somewhat frightened. "What is it? What's happened?"

"He's gone," George managed to gasp. "Fred's really gone." He embraced his brother and tried not to feel ashamed as white hot tears made their way down his face.


	7. Unity

Chapter 6: Unity

Dear Hermione,

I know you've only been at school for a day, but I figured I would write. It was strange to watch you board the Hogwarts Express and not go with you. Even though I am glad I will be training as an auror, part of me wanted to get on the train. Auror training starts in a week; tomorrow Hestia and Harry and I are going to talk about the program. I don't really know what in the hell I'm doing, but that never stopped me before, eh? Anyways, let me know how your first day of classes went.

Love,

Ron.

Ps. Who did they get to teach Defense this year? I didn't hear.

Hermione smiled as she ate lunch and read the letter over for the sixth time. True, they had been apart for only a little over 24 hours, but it was being at Hogwarts that really made her miss him. And Harry.

"Hermione?" A voice said behind her

She turned and saw a tall dark-haired boy standing behind her. It was Lachlan Landon, s soft-spoken Slytherin boy who was Head Boy. It had come out sometime after the war that many families priding themselves as pure bloods were actually half-bloods. The Landons were one of them. Still, Hermione held no hard feelings against the boy, who, in their limited meetings had always been very nice to her. Ginny told her that even before the war, she had had no run-ins with Lachlan of the Malfoy variety.

'Yes?" She asked him.

"The Headmistress wants to see us."

Hermione nodded and followed him out of the Great Hall, after bidding goodbye to Ginny.

"So how are your classes going?" Lachlan asked her.

"Very well," Hermione said. "I had Arithmancy and Ancient Runes this morning. Great subjects," she told him.

He nodded. "I took Arithmancy for a couple years, but decided not to continue on with it."

They reached McGonagall's office. "Creevey," Hermione said. And the stone gargoyles allowed them entrance into the room. Each week, the password to the Headmistress's office was to be the surname of a person who had died in the final battle. Hermione tried her best not to think of Colin Creevey as tiny annoying first year, brandishing his camera and asking Harry for an autograph.

"Ah…Miss Granger, Mr. Landon," Professor McGonagall said as they entered the office. Hermione recalled the last time she had been in this room, with Harry and Ron after the final battle. She glanced at the portrait of Dumbledore; he was sleeping, half of his long-hooked nose no longer visible in the frame.

"I have been speaking directly with Kingsley Shacklebolt regarding the running of this school," she said.

Professor McGonagall must have read the alarm on Hermione's face for she spoke again at once, "Nothing negative, Miss Granger. The Minister and I have a very collaborative relationship and only want the best for Hogwarts and its students. One of the things we have discussed over the summer and now is the lack of unity between the houses."

"We all know the story of how this school was founded," she continued, "and I don't need to tell either of you about the feuds between houses that have been going on for centuries. Part of the reason both of you were chosen for the positions of Head Boy and Head Girl is because of the fact that you have always been diplomatic representatives of your respective houses."

"Miss Granger, Kingsley has informed me that you are already undertaking a task to help the Ministry?"

"Yes professor," Hermione said breathlessly. "I'm going to helping with the magical creatures aspect—"

"Very well," the headmistress said. "Then Lachlan, I must inform you that Kingsley Shacklebolt is no regular Minister of Magic. No doubt Miss Granger is well aware of this already, but the Minister plans to get rid of policies and discrimination that have been in place for decades and centuries. The Minister and I both believe it is crucial to reform this aspect of this school as well."

She paused for a moment, seemingly to let them digest this message.

"So what do you want us to do?" Lachlan asked.

"Ah," Professor McGonagall said. "I want you two to help us with this cause. The Minister and I agree that there is no need to do away with the house system entirely – it encourages bonding and healthy competition – but there should be more inter-house interaction. Kingsley has some ideas, I have some ideas, and we would like the two of you to brainstorm some ideas on this together. In one week, the three of us will be sitting down with the Minister for a little discussion."

"With the Minister?" Lachlan said, a note of awe in his voice. "…but professor, while this is an admirable goal, it's going to be a bit hard to get students to buy into this whole thing, isn't it? Like you said, that hate goes back pretty far…"

"And that will be one of the things that you will have to overcome," Professor McGonagall said.

They talked for a few more minutes about what time they would be meeting the following week and Lachlan and Hermione left the office.

"This is a bit crazy, eh?" Lachlan said to her, though he was smiling. "Slytherins and Gryffindors – best mates?"

Hermione thought of Ron and Harry's hatred of Malfoy and privately agreed with Lachlan, but she knew what they would be doing was important, perhaps necessary. Hadn't the Sorting Hat warned them about dividing themselves? Hadn't it been right? "I don't think it's that crazy," she said a bit coldly. "I think we've all learned there are more important things than Quidditch rivalries in the past couple years."

Lachlan held up his hands to show he hadn't meant offense. "Look, I'm sorry," he said. "You're right. There are more important things, but that doesn't mean it's going to be easy to convince even half the students to go along with some sort of unity-building activity. We've all grown up conditioned to hate each other. It's not the easiest thing to just throw aside."

"It's a prejudice," Hermione said. "Nothing more."

"Well, we should probably sit down and talk about this some time?" He said.

"That would be a good idea, yes," Hermione told him. They made plans to meet later that week and went their separate ways.

~*~*~

"…Ron…" a voice moaned.

Ron looked down at her. She was staring up at him seriously. Their eyes met, and he leaned down to kiss her. She was soft, always so soft. He shifted his weight so he was directly on top of her. They continued kissing. Ron's hand was in her hair, and then traveling up and down her arms.

She sat up, and removed her shirt. Ron did the same. They were back on top of each other. Where there flesh met, Ron felt as though his skin was on fire. But in a good way. In a warm, secure kind of way.

"…Ron…I'm ready…"

He looked at her brown eyes, searching for any doubt or hesitation. He found none.

"Are you sure?" He asked.

She said nothing, but kissed him again. His hands were on her jeans, fumbling to undo the button…

"Ron! GET UP!" A voice shouted.

…finally the button was undone. He pulled her pants down…

"RON!" Ron's eyes flew open. Harry was shaking him.

"Goddammit Harry! I was having a fantastic dream!" He shouted.

"That's great and all, but we're supposed to meet with Hestia later today and you told me you wanted to get up and talk a bit and have some breakfast," Harry said.

"Alright, alright," Ron grumbled. "Give me a minute." Harry left the room, and Ron slid on his robes.

In reality, the dream had not just been a dream, but a memory. On their last day together before Hermione had taken off on the Hogwarts Express, she and Ron had shared a fantastic night together. Ron reminded himself that he couldn't be too angry at Harry for waking him up just now, as it was Harry who had spent the night at the Burrow with Ginny on August 31st, so Ron and Hermione could have the house to themselves.

Ron made his way to the kitchen and sat down at the table where Harry was already munching on a large stack of toast. He grabbed a couple pieces of toast off of Harry's plate.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Harry said, extending an envelope to Ron. "A letter came for you from Hermione."

Ron snatched the letter out of Harry's hand and tore it open. Harry gave him an amused look, which Ron chose to ignore.

Dear Ron,

Thank you for writing me so soon. My first day of classes was great; I stayed after Arithmancy to ask Professor Vector a question, and she said it was clear that I was the only student who had made Arithmancy a priority over the break. I'm sure that's not true, but it is nice to hear that kind of thing when I have been working so hard.

Even though I have barely made any progress on my research for Kingsley, I was already given another assignment by the Minister and Professor McGonagall! I am supposed to come up with ways to help the houses become more united. Of course I think that this is necessary, but I partly agree with the Head Boy (he's a Slytherin – Lachlan Landon) that it seems a bit hopeless. Still, when I think about everything we have all done, this "mission" is nothing really.

Not much else is going on here. I miss you and Harry terribly. I love being with Ginny, but Hogwarts isn't quite the same without you two causing trouble. Let me know how your meeting with Hestia goes. I'm sure it will be a very good learning experience for you and Harry. Mind you make the most of it and ask lots of questions.

Love from,

Hermione.

Ron stared at the letter and then looked up at Harry.

"Did Hermione write you?" He demanded.

"…Yes…" Harry said hesitatingly.

"What's with this Slytherin bloke being Head Boy? Haven't people been paying attention to the news? There's still people out there killing Muggles, and I bet his parents are two of the nutters running around in masks!"

"Ron," Harry said. "First of all, I highly doubt McGonagall would appoint the son of a Death Eater as Head Boy. She was the head of Gryffindor if you recall."

This point calmed Ron a bit. But only a bit.

"I don't care," he said. "I have to write her. I'll be back." He stuffed one last piece of toast in his mouth, and went to compose a letter to Hermione. They were finally supposed to be safe and she was already taking unnecessary risks.

Well, not if Ron could help it.


End file.
